After The Wizard
by x-Pretty-Kitty-x
Summary: Warning: Sequel To Sherlock Of Oz. Slight Crossover. Mainly just mentions of Sherlock Of Oz. Anyway, I promised romance so here it is.
1. Jealousy

**After The Wizard**

**Chapter One**

**AN:**** I know I said that John falls in love with the Wizard and would he want to go home after all and then there wasn't any obvious love. Well just hold on, prepare for another plot twist (ish), The clue was in the last line of **_**Sherlock Of Oz**_**. That's all I'm gonna say, Just read this story and you'll see what my plot twist is ;) hehe. I do have a plan for everything ya know, I don't just make this shit up :p xxxx**

**Summary:**** Sherlock never asked about Oz and never read John's blog about it either. He had decided to just keep it as John's secret. But now, two weeks later, Sherlock's curiosity has gotten the better of him.**

"You never told me about that dream you had." Sherlock says after breakfast.

"Which dream?" John asks, looking up from the paper he's reading.

"The one about, um, Oz."

"Oh, well, it's on my blog. You could have read it there."

"Yes, but I wanted to hear it from you."

"Well, it was just ... I was in Afghanistan and a hurricane hit and then I was in Oz ..."

"And? Who was there?"

"Well, have you read the Wizard of Oz?"

"I skimmed through it so I know the general jist."

"Well, there was a scarecrow that reminded me of Lestrade, a tin man that reminded me of Mycroft ..."

Sherlock smirks widely.

"What?" John asks his brilliant flat mate.

"The tin man wanted a heart."

"Yes, and?"

"Nothing, just carry on."

"A lion that reminded me of Mike, a good witch that reminded me of Molly and a wicked witch that reminded me of ..."

"Of who?"

"Doesn't matter." John replies, shaking his head.

"John." Sherlock presses firmly.

"Irene! Okay, she reminded me of Irene, okay?"

Sherlock struggles to suppress a giggle which causes John to giggle too.

"You're that jealous?" Sherlock asks without thinking amidst giggling.

"What?" John asks, all laughter from his voice gone now.

"Nothing."

"Why would I be jealous of her?"

"I don't know, John."

"That makes a change."

"But, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Oh. Um, continue, John."

"Yeah, and basically we went on this journey to ask the Wizard if I could get home and so that the scarecrow, tin man and lion could get what they wanted too."

"Who did the Wizard remind you of?"

"Um, I can't remember." John replies, looking at the floor.

"John, you're not _that _stupid."

"Not _that_ stupid? Who was there, Sherlock? Where you? Did you end up in a coma?! No!"

It's a low blow but John's sick of Sherlock's arrogance.

"I'm sorry, John."

"Yes, well. The Wizard reminded me of you, _if_ you must know."

"Really? You think that highly of me?"

"Why, who were you expecting it to be?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Well, it was weird because it was like ... modern. I mean, the Wizard had a car not a balloon. And the Wicked Witch of the East was a warlock instead and had a ruby red tie."

"You had a ruby tie? Um, like this one?" Sherlock asks, picking up a package from under the desk and handing it to John.

"What? You bought me a tie? How did you know?"

"I skimmed through your blog, didn't read it. Just skimmed and that stuck out at me."

"Sherlock, you didn't have to ... thank you."

"You're welcome, John."

John smiles and pulls the tie out of the box, tying it round his neck loosely and wriggling it a bit.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, Sherlock." John replies, grabbing Sherlock's hand before he can walk away and pulling him down so he can kiss his cheek.

John suddenly realizes what he's done and coughs awkwardly.

"Sorry."

"Not a problem, John." Sherlock replies, spinning on his heels as his cheeks start to colour red.

"I am sorry, Sherlock."

"I've done worse to you. After all, I _did_ put you in a coma."

"It was an accident, Sherlock."

"That happens a lot, doesn't it?"

"Hey, I don't regret any of it, ya know? I've loved every minute of our time together."

"Really? You're happy risking your life all the time?"

"It reminds me of Afghanistan. The feeling of being needed, the life or death situations, the adrenaline. I shouldn't like it but ... I do."

"You must be mad." Sherlock smirks, looking back at John.

"Only as mad as you." John grins back.

"I guess so."

"Anyway, as I was saying when we finally got to the Wizard, he told us to kill the Wicked Witch and bring back her broom before he'd give us what we asked for."

"I bent you enjoyed that. Did she say 'I'm melting'?"

"Actually, I cut her head off with an axe."

"I can see why you chose Irene then."

"Hey! I didn't _choose_ Irene! It just happened."

"_Are_ you jealous of her?" Sherlock asks again.

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"John, you kissed me on the cheek. Don't people do that when they're _interested_ in someone?"

"Um, well ..." John replies, looking at the floor.

Sherlock moves and sits down on the floor in front of John, just looking at John expectantly.

John looks up and locks eyes with Sherlock; who moves slowly forward, placing a hand on John's knee and leaning in until he's nose to nose with John.

"Sherlock." John whispers, but he finds himself unable to move away.

"Tell me more about this Wizard. Was he handsome? Did he make your heart skip a beat? Did he ever get this close to you?"

"N ... No." John stammers softly.

"Did you want to kiss him? Or was it me you wanted to kiss?"

"Sh ... Sherlock, we ... can't."

"Please, John. Tell me about him, John." Sherlock whispers in such a husky voice that John is sure it's too much of a turn on to be natural.

"He was very ... beautiful and ... brilliant. I was sure I fell for him ... the minute I met him. But I wanted ... to punch him as well. He was such a ... dick to my friends. But ... I guess that doesn't matter."

"Do you want me, John? Do you want to punch me ... or kiss me?"

"Both." John replies without thinking.

Sherlock pulls away a little in shock, he was sure that John would never see him in a romantic way.

"John."

"Sherlock, stop thinking for once and just kiss me." John replies, a seductive smile appearing.

"But ... you said we can't. So ..."

"Alright then, I'll just go to bed." John says, mock sadness in his tone.

"John." Sherlock whispers, jumping up and grabbing John's arm.

He slowly pulls him back a few steps and tentatively leans in, pecking him softly on the lips.

John smiles against his lips, loving that for once Sherlock hasn't got a clue what to do.

Sherlock pulls away, giving a nervous glance at the floor as his cheeks flush red again.

"Hey, I know you don't understand your feelings but this is progress. Well, if you _like_ me that way, that is?"

"Um, yes, I do. I just ... you're right, I don't understand. Can you help me?"

"Yeah. In fact, we can help each other because I've never had these feelings before either, well not for a guy anyway."

"Are _you_ sure you _like_ me in that way too?"

"Sherlock, I just kissed you. First on the cheek and then on the lips. Do I really have to spell it out?" John asks softly, his hand reaching up to Sherlock's cheek like he's done it a million times.

"Well ... Um. I guess not." Sherlock replies, chewing his bottom lip and actually relaxing into John's touch.

John smiles softly at Sherlock's action, moving his hand to the nape of his neck and pulling him forward again.

"So, what do we do now?" Sherlock whispers and John can see his mask crumbling.

"How about we just sit on the couch for a bit?" John suggests, grabbing Sherlock's hand and pulling him to towards the couch.

"Okay ... Can I ... Can I lay down?" Sherlock asks as John sits down on the couch.

"If you like." John replies, patting the seat next to him.

Sherlock smiles shyly and lays down on the couch, resting his head in John's lap.

"What do you want to watch?"

"Um, I don't mind." Sherlock replies, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Oh. Okay. Doctor Who?"

"Well, as you enjoy it so much, I suppose I can try and get into it." Sherlock replies with a shrug.

"Oh, alright then." John smiles happily, glad that Sherlock is being co-operative for once.

"No complaints, and no remarks about crap plot twists, I really like this show."

"I can't make any promises." Sherlock grins wickedly.

"... Fine." John sighs before turning on _Doctor Who_ on Watch.

"So which companion is this again? Is this the River one or the Rose one?"

"It's _River Song_, Sherlock. I thought you remembered everything."

"It's Doctor Who. Of course I don't remember it. I only remember the interesting stuff."

"Yet, you remember what fragrance my aftershave is and what my shampoo smells like." John smiles softly, ruffling Sherlock's hair.

"That's because it's you." Sherlock whispers.

"Oh."

"… Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's nice." John replies, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

"So, a bit good then?"

"Yes, a bit good." John grins, a small chuckle escaping.

"I'm glad."

**Later That Day**

"Boys, Mycroft is here. Boys!" Mrs Hudson calls, making her way up the stairs. "Boys … Oh." She smiles softly at the sight in front of her.

"Mrs Hudson." Mycroft calls, finally making his way up the stairs. "Is everything alright …" He stops mid-sentence as he sees his brother and the doctor fast asleep on the couch. "Ah, well, I'll be going then. Goodbye, Mrs Hudson."

"Well, I'm sure I can wake them up, Mycroft." Mrs Hudson replies, running after the older Holmes.

"No need. That's all I needed to know."

"Oh, well …" Mrs Hudson replies unsurely.

"I just wanted to see if my brother had made the 'leap' yet, so to speak. And it's plainly obvious that he has."

"Oh, I don't think you can take that as face value, Mycroft. They are very close friends."

"Trust me, Mrs Hudson, they are soon to be more. I just hope they don't disturb you." Mycroft replies with a smile, causing the landlady to blush as she realises what he's implying.

"I'm sure they'll be very considerate." She finally says with a smile.

"I'm sure. Goodbye, Mrs Hudson." The older Holmes replies, opening the door and making his way down the steps.

"Goodbye, Mycroft. Come round again soon for tea and biscuits."

"Oh, I will, Mrs Hudson." He smiles, climbing into his car.

x..x

"I'm guessing that the situation has changed?" Jennifer asks as the older Holmes closes the door.

"Yes, indeed it has, Jennifer."

"Oh, not Anthea, anymore." She retorts, directing a smile at her phone.

"Which would you prefer, Jennifer?"

This causes the young woman to look up in surprise; he's never asked for her real name and has definitely never asked if she prefers it to _Anthea._

"Will _Jennifer_ be a regular occurrence, Sir?"

"If you prefer it. I was growing tired of the name _Anthea_ anyway." He replies, looking out the window,

"Then Jennifer it is, Sir."

"Yes, indeed." He finally turns to her and gives her a smile.

She replies in kind, before going back to her mobile.

"So what of the younger Holmes and his doctor then?"

"Only time will tell, Jennifer." Mycroft replies, smiling as the city passes him by.

**Okay, the Anthea/Jennifer bit does have a point. Apart from the fact that I think both Mark Gatiss and Mycroft are either obsessed with the name or are too lazy to change it ;) I wanted to mix it up and show a little change in Mycroft's behavior. I think that (yet know otherwise) if John and Sherlock ever got together that Mycroft would probably be okay with it as he knows John and has had the suspicion that John, if not loves him, then at least has had a crush on him for a few years and if he's been able to put up with him for that long then he's okay to date Sherlock.**

**Second chapter will be up soon, promise xxxx**


	2. Shared Dreams

**After The Wizard**

**Chapter Two**

**AN: So here's the second chapter :) xxxx**

"Sherlock. Sherlock. Wake up." John gently nudges the detective, despite the fact that he looks quite sweet curled up in John's lap.

Sherlock groans in his sleep but makes no attempt to wake.

"Sherlock!" John raises his voice a little but still the detective doesn't wake.

"That's it, I'm making some tea." John decides, gently lifting Sherlock's head off his lap and placing it back on the couch.

As he's boiling the kettle, John hears Sherlock speak but he's sure that it isn't possible as he has never been aware of the detective talking in his sleep.

"Sherlock." John says softly, re-entering the living room. But Sherlock is still asleep and he _is _actually talking in his sleep.

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.30**_

_Has Sherlock ever talked in his sleep?_

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.32**_

_Only when he was a child. He used to talk_

_in his sleep when he was having an interesting_

_dream. I presume he is doing that at this moment?_

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.35**_

_Well I wasn't just asking for the sake of it._

_Obviously he is._

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.38**_

_Yes well. Why don't you see if it's an interesting one?_

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.42**_

_I will not invade my flat mate's privacy, Mycroft. No._

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.44**_

_Partner's._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

John splutters as he re-reads Mycroft's text.

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.48**_

_What?_

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.50**_

_I came to visit earlier. I saw you two._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.52**_

_Oh._

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.54**_

_There's nothing to be ashamed of, John._

_I'm perfectly happy with your arrangement._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

John can't prevent a blush colouring his cheeks. How could Mycroft know he was embarrassed just by a text? Well, this was Mycroft after all. Wait, _embarrassed_? Why was he embarrassed?

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.57**_

_Please stop thinking too hard, John._

_You're giving me quite a headache._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 20.59**_

_Oh, sorry._

_I was just thinking._

_Well, obviously._

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 21.03**_

_Obviously._

_Now, consider my suggestion._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 21.05**_

_Can I really do that though?_

_Wouldn't that be invading his privacy?_

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 21.08**_

_Your curiosity is peaked._

_It can hardly do any harm._

_You need not mention it when he wakes._

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

John considers this for a moment and realises that Mycroft is actually right. He doesn't need to tell Sherlock what he heard so what harm can it do?

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 21.11**_

_Alright then._

_Thanks, Mycroft._

_JW_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

_**15**__**th**__** April 2012 21.14**_

_You're welcome, John_

_MH_

_**MESSAGE SENT**_

John puts his phone down and finally finishes making his cuppa before making his way over to Sherlock's sleeping form.

_"I said quiet! I will grant you your requests but you have to prove you deserve what you ask for!"_

A slight pause before Sherlock carries on, obviously he is talking to someone else in his dream.

_"Bring me the broomstick of the Wicked Witch ... of the West!"_

John splutters on his drink, starring at Sherlock disbelievingly. This sounds strangely familiar.

_"Then kill her first and bring me her ... BROOMSTICK! Then I will grant your requests."_

"What? That isn't possible. How can he be having the same dream? I mean, sure, I told him the story but not in _that_ much detail."

"John?"

It takes a second for John to realise that Sherlock is no longer asleep.

"Sherlock, hey." John replies sheepishly.

"Where you talking to yourself?"

"… Um, yeah."

"Why?"

"Do you remember your dream, Sherlock?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" Sherlock asks, suddenly springing up to a sitting position.

"Sherlock, you were dreaming of OZ."

"That _fictional_ land you made up while you were in your coma?" Sherlock says harshly, noticing John flinch. "Um, sorry."

"No, it's fine. But yes, that land I made up. You were saying exactly what the Wizard said to me when I was having that dream."

"Absurd."

"No, really, you did." John replies, grabbing Sherlock's hands gently.

"But how?"

"I've heard about this. In some cases, people recall sharing a dream with someone they are close to. Maybe a friend or family member or even sometimes a … well." John coughs awkwardly, blushing again.

"A _what_, John?"

"A partner." John whispers softly, looking at the floor.

"Oh. Oh! So is that what we are now? Interesting." Sherlock exclaims excitedly, jumping up from the couch and wandering around the room

"Sherlock. Can we talk about this, please?"

"About us? We can talk about it all night, John! This is so _very_ interesting!"

"I mean about the dream, Sherlock. It's important."

"It was just a dream, John." Sherlock replies in a bored voice, before going back to wandering the room with childlike glee.

"No, it could mean we have a strong connection."

This stops Sherlock in his tracks and he swivels round to John, a huge grin forming.

"That's brilliant."

"Well, yes …" John replies, a grin of his own forming. "… it really is." He giggles softly before Sherlock sweeps him into his arms and holding him close.

John can see every colour in Sherlock's eyes and it's like there's a solar system in there, threatening to burn into his very core. It's quite a magnificent and beautiful sight.

Sherlock's grin drops but only because he's realised that he and John are staring into each other's eyes and it feels as though something as clicked; like fate has brought them together and they were too blind to see it all this time.

"John." It's barely above a whisper but John hears it perfectly.

"Sherlock." John whispers back.

"I feel like I'm falling, John." Sherlock whispers softly and suddenly his eyes are full of sadness.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you, Sherlock." The _this time_ hangs unspoken as John remembers how he failed to catch the detective when he fell from Barts.

Sherlock understands completely, as he always does when words are unspoken between them and he leans forward slowly, touching his lips to John's.

It's the sweetest kiss John has ever experienced and he has the same sense of falling … falling for Sherlock.

**I'm gonna leave it there, hehe. I was looking at the theory of Shared Dreams as I have experienced this myself with my best friend on a number of occasions. It's apparently just that though, a theory. But I like it. It's a very good theory :) xxxxx**


	3. Progression

**After The Wizard**

**Chapter Three: Progression**

**AN: Another chapter for you all :) xxxxx**

"Good morning, John." Sherlock smiles, bringing two cups of tea into the living room as John enters.

"What's got you in such a good mood this morning?" John chuckles, gratefully taking the brew off Sherlock.

"You have as a matter of fact." Sherlock continues to smile, wrapping an arm around John's waist and kissing him.

"Careful, I could get used to this." John smiles, revelling in the closeness of Sherlock.

"Well, don't. I'm afraid I won't change that much, John." Sherlock replies, moving to sit on the couch.

"I'm not expecting you to, Sherlock, honest. You're mad brilliance is what I fell in love with." John says softly, sitting down next to Sherlock on the couch.

"Good." Comes Sherlock's simple reply.

"Any cases?" John asks, deciding to change the subject.

"Not yet. Obviously Lestrade is coping well for once."

"Oh, well. So what do you want to do?" John asks awkwardly.

"I have a few experiments that could occupy my time." Sherlock replies, continuing to sip his tea.

"Oh." John supposed it was too much to have a nice quiet day with Sherlock after their confessions last night.

"You sound disappointed, John. Have I upset you?" Sherlock says, finally looking at John.

"No, it's fine. You get on with your experiments and I'll read my book. It's fine." John replies, kissing Sherlock's forehead before moving to his chair.

"Did you … plan anything? If you did then … we could do that." Sherlock replies softly.

"I didn't, no, but its fine, Sherlock."

Sherlock knows that he probably did have something planned, especially given his choice of words but the young detective doesn't understand what to do.

"Angelo's?" He says suddenly, making John look up.

"What?"

"Are you hungry? We could go to Angelo's?" Sherlock replies, giving an awkward smile.

"That sounds lovely. I'll go get dressed." John smiles back, ruffling Sherlock's curls as he walks past and John is sure that he hears the younger man … _purr_.

The doctor stops at the door and turns back to the younger man, ruffling his curls again and this time he is _definitely_ sure he hears him purr.

Sherlock seems to realise what he's doing and moves away slightly, lowering his head as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

John chuckles in reply, resting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder and rubbing his thumb across his shoulder blade before heading off to the bedroom again.

As soon as he's gone, Sherlock smiles widely, placing his hand over the shoulder where John's had just been, realising how much he enjoys John's touch; so calming and strong, keeping him steady, acting as his anchor.

x..x

"Come on then, love. Let's go." John replies, walking back into the living room.

Sherlock's still looking at his shoulder but as John walks back in, he looks up at his partner slowly, taking in his attire; blue jeans that seem to make the short man look taller and a black shirt showing off his still very well-toned chest.

Sherlock gulps in reply, feeling his suit pants tighten greatly.

John looks down at Sherlock and hums in appreciation, "We can sort that out later. If you want?" He adds the last bit in a whisper.

Sherlock murmurs in response before recomposing himself and standing up.

He looks over at his reflection in the mirror, painting on his usual mask of bravado and confidence before turning to John.

As he starts to walk over to John suddenly his vulnerability begins to show and he finally replies, "I … I've never … before."

John quickly puts the pieces together and then remembers what Irene said, "Of course. I'm so sorry, Sherlock. We won't do anything you don't want. And we'll take it one step at a time, okay. I'm a patient man." He smiles, cupping Sherlock's cheek and staring into the younger man's eyes.

"Thank you." Sherlock whispers, tentatively leaning forward and kissing John.

"Let's go, beautiful." John smiles softly, grabbing Sherlock's hand and squeezing it.

Sherlock smiles in return, pulling John down the stairs and out the front door.


End file.
